


Can’t let the darkness get you

by nottimagiche



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 17:17:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17943878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nottimagiche/pseuds/nottimagiche
Summary: Felt a bit concerned about Dier so decided to rope also Dele into this. Set at the end of February 2019. Gets a bit cheesy towards the end so be forewarned :)





	Can’t let the darkness get you

**Author's Note:**

> Felt a bit concerned about Dier so decided to rope also Dele into this. Set at the end of February 2019. Gets a bit cheesy towards the end so be forewarned :)

The palm trees swayed gently in the warm breeze. A frothy wave came crashing into the shore, sweeping the hot sand smooth before vanishing back into the ocean. Eric's toes disappeared in the wet sand as he stood looking into the distance, taking in the warm wind on his skin, tilting his head back towards the greenery bordering the shore, the palm leaves dancing in the wind.

Eric took in a breath of air, the salt coating his lungs akin to Lagos and Lisbon, the way the air smelled by the ocean always a gentle pull back to his childhood. This time, however, the air felt different, the breath now forced and painful and Eric clutched his chest. The breathing became more difficult, his chest constricting under the effort and Eric felt a sharp, piercing pain in his chest, in his abdomen, robbing him of air as he gasped, dropping down to his knees on the sand and as soon he could hear another wave approaching, the water crashed into him, knocking him—

"Eric.”

Was he breathing? He wasn’t sure.

“Eric”, he heard again and felt a warm hand on his body. “You have to wake up, stop freaking me out.”

Eric drew a huge breath, like that of a drowning man, and opening his eyes he found himself on his bed, sheets damp and twisted around him, Dele’s warm hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake. He turned to Dele, the younger man half propped up on the bed, eyes full of worry as Eric realised another dream, another bad one, had invaded his sleep. Dele didn’t know about all of them, thank God, in fact he was making a rare appearance sleeping over at Eric’s house, after an evening of fairly rigorous amourous activities.

“Bad dream?” Dele stated the obvious and placed a hand over Eric’s heart to feel the violent thumping underneath his palm.

“Christ”, Eric exhaled and brought his hands to his face to rub the dream away. He then reached out for Dele’s hand on his chest, brought it to his lips and kissed the inside of the soothing palm as a thank you and an apology.

“You remember that dream I had when I was under during surgery?" he spoke softly, feeling Dele’s concerned eyes on him. “Where I was somewhere in the tropics, on a beach somewhere having the time of my life, and when I came to in recovery, all the doctors and nurses thought it was hilarious I’d had such a great time while under.” Eric finally looked at Dele.

“I remember”, Dele replied, somehow waiting for the punchline.

“Well, I was at that beach again”, Eric sighed, “but it wasn’t as much fun now.”

Dele raised his hand to Eric’s forehead. “You feel clammy. Was it that bad?”

Eric ran his hand over his beard, a familiar gesture he repeated daily for a variety of purposes. “Woke up before I drowned so that’s a plus I guess”, he offered and immediately felt Dele’s palm on his face and a push in disgust at the attempt at humour.

“Yeah, you be funny in your own time, mate”, Dele huffed and reinforced his message by pushing Eric’s body further away from him while the other man both resisted the motion and suppressed a giggle. “Nearly had a fucking heart attack”, Dele continued as he allowed Eric to roll back. “And you’re all sticky and clammy.”

 _I really need to start showering after sex_ , Eric thought, feeling the array of bodily fluids on his skin.

“You really should shower after sex”, Dele continued, and Eric let out a giggle at the bizarre and amazing wavelength they were operating on.

“Ah, love you babe”, Eric smiled and sought Dele’s lips for a quick peck. “Sorry I woke you”, he said before another peppering of kisses at the darker man’s reluctant lips.

“I forgive you”, Dele relented under Eric’s affections. “But only because you nearly died in your sleep.”

“Didn’t really—” Eric tried to offer but Dele had already turned his back, the sheets already adjusted to cover his bare body. “Can we go back to sleep now, please?” he mumbled, and Eric smiled at the premise of having Dele, his best friend, his lover, in his bed, in the middle of the night, acting like only Dele could.

How he loved that man and all the silliness that came with him, but Eric had long known much of it was just a front, to deny, cover and mask the parts of Dele’s life that weren’t all sunshine and roses. He hadn’t quite got Dele to confess all his sins yet but how he loved trying.

Eric ran his fingers over the small, angry scar near his right hip. _Can you just heal the fuck up already and properly_ , he thought, almost feeling the pulse of his insides under his fingertips.

***

Breakfast the next morning at Eric’s was another novelty, the result of a lazy, free Sunday, espresso bubbling away on the stainless-steel stovetop, the silver toaster packed full of toast that didn’t quite reach Dele’s preferred levels of burn, but he didn’t complain. This was still new, all kinds of exciting, many layers of scary.

Eric looked up from his book at Dele across the large kitchen table, the younger man scrolling through the screen of his phone, a bite of toast sporadically finding its way into his mouth. There was strange comfort in the silence that morning, even though outside of the privacy of their homes they were rarely quiet.

No one knew, yet, and if it were up to Eric, no one would ever know. Not his family, not the club, not even his close friends. While he knew some people lived like this in perfect comfort for all their lives, that wasn’t for them, it couldn’t be. Eric looked at Dele again, his chest constricting slightly as a wave of emotion rolled through him. Yes this was amazing, yes he loved him but no he had no idea where this was going. Wasn’t life just a shitshow sometimes.

“Can you stop staring at me, please?” Dele said while still keeping his eyes on his phone.

Eric smiled and took another sip of his coffee. “Don’t know if I can.”

Dele raised his eyes and put his phone down on the table. “Stop being needy, I can’t stand it.” He kept his eyes fixed on Eric’s, trying to bite down a smirk.

“For someone who likes to act all casual, I know you want me when your pupils dilate like they’re doing now”, Eric continued nonchalant, eyes burning into Dele’s, another sip of coffee passing his lips.

“Hmm”, Dele sounded and slowly reached across the table, the staring contest still in full effect, to run his finger down Eric’s slightly crooked nose, over the lips that opened ever so slightly under the touch, over the chin, and down to the top of the chest where the blond man’s white V-neck started. He could see Eric swallow empty and exhale loudly through his nose, prompting Dele to lean across the table to claim the lips of his lover.

Dele could taste the coffee on Eric’s tongue and feel the want rise in his own body, trying hard to convince himself that it was just a physical need, his body having become adjusted to the need, want and release provided by Eric but he was damned if it was more than that. Dele could tell it was more than that for Eric but as long as he didn’t need to talk about it, he was fine with the wanton reactions of his body and the burn he had for this goofy man in front of him.

They broke apart after a moment, cheeks flushed and both sets of blue and brown eyes alight, but as customary for them, they quickly returned to their normalcy; Dele to his phone, Eric to his book. After years of the slow burn, more recently a more scorching one, they were used to switching on and switching off the desire at the drop of a hat, or the breaking apart of lips. It was how it had to be, so it was how it was.

With Eric’s phone screen lighting up, he reached for the device to check another message from his agent.

“Listen”, he spoke after scrolling through the message, “you still haven’t said if you’re coming to America with me.”

Dele raised his eyes, a taste for the toast in his hands quickly gone.

“I mean you don’t have to”, Eric continued, “I just think you might like it, and we could go to New York, visit my sister, to Boston, Philly, anywhere you like.”

“Hmm”, Dele sounded, the same syllable as only a few moments ago before taking a taste of Eric’s mouth but now inherently different. “I’m not sure yet”, he offered, knowing full well the answer but not brave enough to confess to it. “I mean I might have something, Harry might be organising something.”

Eric also knew what the answer was but he let Dele squirm and try to talk his way out of it. There was no way Dele would come, he was too nervous, too scared of someone finding out, someone putting two and two together and coming up with the total sum of Dele and Dier fucking.

“No worries”, Eric said, letting Dele off the hook this once, or once again. “I just hope the camp goes well, it’s important for the kids to have those experiences, you know?”

“Yep”, Dele replied, his eyes back on the phone.

“I mean I know it sounds funny but I probably had the best experiences in the Sporting academy, eating, breathing, living football all the time, all the lads, Pedro you remember, it was brilliant, those nights watching Sporting play and going crazy over wins, you know—”

“I get it”, Dele snapped, “you’ve said.”

Eric could feel the mood get crushed to pieces. This wasn’t a new occurrence but he had forgot to watch out for it so it still took him by surprise. “Right”, he acknowledged Dele’s retort.

“I get it, you went to a fancy academy, with nice kits and manicured lawns and eternal fucking sunshine, a far cry from my kick-about at the car park.” Dele was still speaking towards his phone.

Eric sighed. “What can I say, eh? Is it my fault we grew up in different places? Stop being so fucking bitter.” While he loved the lad, he was tired of Dele’s chirping. “Look at where you are, did a car park in MK stop you from being where you are now?”

“Oh my God”, Dele got up from the table and took his plate to the sink, “love me some condescending Dier first thing in the morning.”

“How am I condescending?” Eric raised his voice, his dogs perking up their heads from the living room, readying themselves to defend their owner. “I love it when you misunderstand me on purpose, just because you can’t feel good about yourself and how far you’ve come.”

Dele leaned against the kitchen counter, as far from Eric as he could get in that space. “Do you feel good about yourself, eh?” He didn’t like the anger rising inside of him and it being directed at Eric but it was all he had. “You who wants to live a lie, who’s keen to suck my dick but doesn’t want to be seen with me in public anymore, you who wakes up in a sweat in the middle of the night because of the pressure your family is putting on you, your Mum desperate to plan the next perfect Dier wedding, you who bottled it against Chelsea—”

“Fuck you Del!” Eric rose from the table, fists bunched, the dogs running to circle around his legs, preventing him from approaching Dele who had already stepped to the hall to retrieve his coat.

“Don’t worry I’m going”, Dele said by the front door, looking back at the tall form and the dogs at his feet.

“Low blow Del”, Eric said softly, the anger quickly dissipating at the prospect of his lover leaving, the imagined lovely Sunday quickly vanishing before his eyes.

“You should know how to take it”, Dele replied, the bitterness still burning his mouth. “Or did they not teach you that in your precious academy?”

“I think you should leave now Del”, Eric sighed, crossing his arms against his chest. “I love you but you’re being a dick.”

“Well I don’t love you and I think we should stop all this.”

The front door closed sharply behind Dele, leaving a stunned Eric stand in the middle of his kitchen.

Outside, Dele took a few slow steps before stopping at the gate, his hand on the handle, before slumping down to the ground. His mind blank, a familiar defence mechanism when things became too much to handle, he crouched down on the ground for a moment before summoning strength from somewhere, opened the gate, hoped no one would see him and ran to his car parked a safe distance away. Inside in the driver’s seat, his mind was still empty but the pain in his gut indicated something had happened, words had been said and in all likelihood he had just doomed himself to a life of lonely misery.

Maybe it was all he deserved, all he was good for.

***

He wasn’t all wrong, Eric thought of Dele as he sat back down by the table, the dogs nuzzling his lap for condolence, his hands by habit finding their way to soft fur, floppy ears, the feel of his precious boys always a cure for all ailments. At least those of the mental variety because physically he was still fucked from the surgery and the infection that had ravaged his body.

He wasn’t proud of this autumn and winter, the way his body was failing him, the nightmares a signal something was still brewing in his body. He was missing matches he should have been winning, early June in Portugal was also looking increasingly unlikely unless he would get his act together soon.

But Dele was another issue entirely. Underneath all the bravado, the swagger, the clothes, the tattoos, there was just a young man looking for acceptance, too nervous to fully let himself go, still too insecure to accept all the good things in his life, still looking over his shoulder for the next blow to come. It was easier to shut down when things got too heavy, Eric had seen this time and time again, first in matches, later on a more personal level and then in his house, in his bed, and just now at his front door.

He didn’t believe Dele didn’t love him, he had heard it too many times, first at the training ground, in matches, in the dressing room, then on a far more personal level and the favourite moment in his life thus far, when the words left Dele’s lips with all the meaning and emotion those words could entail. It was just that Dele could also be a petulant brat who spat out the most hurtful words because he felt bad about himself.

 _I really should go for that degree in Psychology later_ , Eric snorted to himself as he took his coffee cup to the sink, Dele’s plate of toast crumbs staring back at him. If things proceeded as per usual custom, the first, one-word apology message would arrive on his phone in max. half an hour, followed by a slightly longer version in two hours and then by this evening Dele would be lying underneath him, fingers digging into Eric’s back, mouth still swollen from having been filled by Eric, his insides pulsing from the lengthy, thick fill of Eric. At least that was their typical row routine.

By midnight, as he let sleep take him to another uneasy night, Eric had not heard from Dele.

***

Every Monday morning at the training ground the lads had to talk to a sports scientist about their Sunday if they’d had the day off. The questions were always the same.

How was your Sunday, Eric? “Fine.”

Did you do any physical exercise? “Walked the dogs.”

Any running, weights, stretching, swimming, yoga? “No.”

Any sexual activity Saturday or Sunday? “Maybe.”

Yes or no, Eric? “Yes.”

For how long? “An hour.”

One hour? “Yes.”

Any aches or pains anywhere? “The scar is still sore. And throat is a little sore.”

OK, we’ll look at those. What did you eat yesterday? “Coffee, toast, brunch, dinner.”

Any alcohol? “No.”

Any cigarettes? “No.”

Any recreational drugs? “I wish.”

Yes or no, Eric? “No.”

Anything unusual about Sunday? _Maybe_. “No.”

Anything else? “Have you seen Dele?”

***

Eric scanned the dressing room at Hotspur Way, desperate to locate the younger man, still no messages from him and Eric’s texts that morning had also gone unacknowledged.

“Seen Dele?” he asked Jan who was changing into his training kit.

“Good morning Eric, thank you for asking I’m fine, how are you today?” Jan replied, his tone the same usual one but Eric knew he was being reprimanded.

“Sorry mate”, he gave the Belgian a hug and two firm pats on the back. “How are you today?”

Jan huffed. “I just told you, what’s wrong with you?” Eric shook his head and made his way to his locker with Jan grinning behind him. “Dele’s training with the physios already, someone said he came in very early”, Jan continued.

“OK, Thank You Jan”, Eric replied, enunciating each word carefully, to indicate the message has been received, and continued to change into the black and purple tights and top before heading to the canteen for breakfast.

***

In the afternoon, with still no sign or sighting of Dele, Eric’s blood work came back showing elevated infection levels so he knew he was out of the midweek Chelsea match. They wouldn’t risk playing him if he wasn’t 100% fit and while generally Eric was desperate to play, his body just didn’t feel right so he quietly accepted his fate. But another bloody course of antibiotics would be causing havoc on his stomach, maybe that’s why he was having the dreams and the shooting pains.

Changing back into his street clothes in the dressing room, to the trusty black hoodie and black trackies, Eric caught a glimpse of a head of curls as he leaned down to tie his shoes. As he rose back up, a familiar figure was sitting next to him.

“Doc says you’re sick.”

Eric kept his gaze down and looked at the slim, muscular legs next to his. “Sick, fresh, is that what the kids say these days?” he offered, only to be nudged heavily by Dele next to him.

“Hilarious”, Dele huffed. “Is it your stomach still?”

Eric sighed. “That and now my throat hurts.” He looked at Dele, relieved they were the only ones still in the dressing room. “Does your throat hurt?”

Dele shook his head. “You’re not playing Wednesday?”

“No”, Eric replied before bringing his hand to Dele’s thigh to give it a small squeeze. “Can I talk to you, please? At home?”

Dele nodded, his fingers tracing the back of Eric’s hand on his thigh. “I didn’t… mean what I said yesterday”, he continued quietly, spoken apologies not really his forte.

“I think you meant some of it”, Eric replied, nudging the younger man next to him. “Hopefully not all of it.”

“No”, Dele said quietly and resisted the temptation to bring his lips to Eric’s, to beg for forgiveness, but the security cameras installed in the ceilings were always an easy turn-off. “I’ll follow you home.”

***

With the unusually warm February weather, Eric had left the door to the back yard open so the boys could come and go during the day without waiting for him to come home. With their bowls filled and fresh water added, and with a fresh batch of mate brewing on the coffee table, Eric sat next to Dele on the living room sofa.

“Can I just say it’s rude not to reply to messages”, Eric started.

“Have you never argued before, it defeats the whole purpose if I reply to you”, Dele said, reaching for the mate before Eric swatted his hand away.

“No, don’t drink from the same one, I don’t want you catching whatever this is”, he pointed at his throat.

“It’s the beard that’s slowly infecting all of you, I’m telling you, you need to shave, I’ll do it for you.” Dele tried, giving the scruff on Eric’s face a stroke.

“It’s not the beard, let the beard be already”, Eric took a sip of mate under Dele’s envious eyes.

“You think I don’t know you’re not sleeping well”, Dele started quietly, “that you’re having these dreams all the time and breaking out in a sweat when you take the dogs out, it’s not normal and I’m worried sick about you and I don’t want to feel that way.”

Eric looked at Dele next to him. “I’m sorry”, he said. “I don’t want you to feel that way. Is that why you want to end things?”

Dele twisted his hands in his lap. How he was fine when he didn’t have to talk about things, why couldn’t they go back to not talking about things? “I didn’t mean it like that… not really.”

“But a little bit?” Eric probed, feeling Dele’s discomfort grow in the lean man’s body. Dele brought his hands to his neck and rubbed the tightness building in his muscles.

“I’m sorry I told you off about the academy, I know it’s not your fault but every time you talk about it, it reminds me how different we are, how you’re this golden boy with football heritage and all the opportunities in the world and I’m just this scrappy lad from MK who somehow made it and we have no business being together.”

Eric sighed, familiar with this premise but still surprised Dele kept returning to it, even after their relationship had changed in very fundamental ways. “Can’t you see you’re the success story here, not me?” he tried to convince the darker man next to him. “You decided you needed more than the car park and you made the change, your talent and hard work—”

“What if I can’t do that?” Dele spoke hastily, “what if I can never let that go and it will eat away at me and I’ll keep snapping about it and about your family and football whenever I have the chance or I’m feeling moody?”

Eric took Dele’s hand in his and laced their fingers, feeling their pulses mix in the tight squeeze of their skins. “All I can say is I wish you could let go and I think it’s good you’re telling me.”

“But I don’t know if I can handle all this anymore”, Dele spoke, raising his eyes to Eric’s. “Living in fear like this? Who will find out soon, will your Mum figure it out when she sees me and my stuff here at the house, it’s all just…” Dele sighed. “I think we need to stop... you need someone better than me.”

There it was, Eric thought, finally the words he knew were brewing in Dele’s mind, finally out in the open. This was far too heavy for a Monday evening. “You don’t think I deserve to be with you?” Eric asked quietly, not yet resigned to his fate.

“You need someone who will love you back properly.”

Eric let out small, high-pitched laugh of desperation. “And you don’t?”

Dele rose from the sofa, being stationary not suiting his building anxiety. “Have you met me? You know I’m an emotional cripple”, he said, looking at the garden with his back turned to Eric, trying to fight the emotion, the tears building in his chest.

“All the stuff from my childhood, all the shit, I try to bury it deep enough so it can’t touch me, can’t get to me anymore and I’m all fun and games and parties and clothes and tattoos and trips but in the end it doesn’t cover up the dark, you know?” Dele looked back at Eric. “It never does.”

“I know this, babe, I know you, I’ve known you long enough to know all this.” Eric rose and put his hands tentatively on Dele’s shoulders, just to offer a touch, not presumptuous enough to hold him.

“Sally once, um…” Dele continued looking somewhere in the distance past the garden, past the familiar basketball hoop, “she once asked me to see a doctor, a therapist you know, to talk about everything I couldn’t talk about with her or Harry or Alan, to let it all out because I haven’t yet…” Dele pressed his back against Eric’s chest behind him for support and Eric took the cue to bring his arms around Dele’s waist. “…I can’t do that…” Dele shook his head and Eric could feel the sobs building in Dele’s midriff under his touch, “if I do that… I will crumble.”

Dele leaned forward quickly, the sobs rising quietly at first, then more violently as he crouched down on the floor, Eric holding him tightly. The boys came running to circle around the pair, puzzled and anxious but soon seemingly settled with Eric’s soft _it’s all right_ repeated, both for them and for Dele. Clay nuzzled his face under Dele’s chin and dark hands came up quickly to hold the blond dog tightly as Cisco sought the same affection from Eric.

Some sight they were making, Eric thought to himself; a blond man, a dark man, a blond dog and a dark dog, all huddled together in a pile on the living room floor.

Eric kissed the back of Dele’s neck and Dele leaned his head back to rest on Eric’s shoulder. “I wish you would love yourself like I love you”, Eric whispered in Dele’s ear and immediately felt another wave of sobs rumble in the younger man’s chest. Eric pressed a kiss on Dele’s cheek. “And I can’t believe you told me all that.”

Dele snorted softly, his usual self raising its head again. “I also can’t believe it”, he said, turning his head and seeking Eric’s lips for the softest of touches. “Tomorrow we’re gonna do all your darkest secrets.”

“Babe I have no secrets, what you see is what you get”, Eric tried even though he sussed that wouldn’t fly.

“Right, except for the piercing pain in your stomach you’re trying to hide and the fact you will never tell anyone about us and there has to be a reason why you’re so keen to be on top all the time—”

“Not all the time!” Eric intervened. “Definitely not all the time, in fact I’m happy with all kinds of positions—”

“Calm down, I know you’re keen on all positions”, Dele smiled, the four of them still heaped together on the floor. He still felt weird talking about sex in front of the dogs, he always felt they knew exactly what they were talking about and were secretly shaking their heads at the ridiculous issues of humans.

Eric pressed another kiss on Dele’s cheek. “You OK?”

Dele leaned his head back again and sought Eric’s lips for a stronger kiss, one signalling gratitude, for everything. “I’m OK”, he said against Eric’s lips before pulling back and turning to look at his lover. “You do know I love you? Even if I sometimes say I don’t but that’s a lie because I do and you know this, right?” he continued, desperate for his message to get through. “Four years I’ve loved you, you should know this, right?”

“I know”, Eric smiled, “wasn’t always so sure about the four years but I know you love me now.”

“All that time”, Dele insisted. “Do you believe me?”

Eric smiled with the force of his heart bursting in his chest. Now this was his favourite moment of his life thus far.

He got up from the floor, pulled Dele up with him and holding the younger man’s face, kissed his lover deeply, with Dele’s hands coming up to touch his bare back underneath his hoodie. Before more heat began rising in their bodies, Eric took Dele’s hand. “Come with me”, he said and led the younger man upstairs to the bedroom.

***

Eric closed the door to prevent the boys from entering and partly to shield their precious eyes and ears from the ensuing loving that they had no business witnessing. He knew full well the boys knew what these two boys were up to, but he still tried to pretend they didn’t.

Dele quickly proceeded to take off his clothes, emotionally exhausted but still keen to connect with Eric on this best of levels. As he tossed his boxers aside and lay on the bed, he looked at Eric slowly taking his top off.

“Can you hurry up, please?” Dele groaned from the bed but still enjoyed the slow disrobing of the firm, wide upper body of his lover. Eric sat down on the bed with his bare torso but his trackies still on, prompting Dele’s face to create the proverbial question mark.

“We’re gonna do something different”, Eric said softly, leaning down to press a kiss to Dele’s puzzled lips. “You need to love yourself like I love you”, he said and Dele quickly came to a realisation of what Eric was suggesting.

“Nah, come on”, Dele offered, reaching for Eric’s form but the older man didn’t relent.

“When’s the last time you touched yourself?” Eric asked. “Really touched yourself.”

“I haven’t had to, you’ve done it for me”, Dele replied, slightly uneasy and uncomfortable lying there naked under Eric’s scrutiny.

“I want you to do it for yourself this time”, Eric spoke softly. “Like I’m not here, like you’re alone and you feel good about yourself.”

“Eric—”

“I know it’s difficult for you but I want you to feel how I feel about you.”

Dele could feel his dick hardening over Eric’s words and the under the gentle eyes of his lover. “I won’t pretend you’re not here”, he said softly, his hands coming up to his body, to run over the hard abs and pecs. “You have to help me.”

Eric felt his own member harden quickly from Dele’s words and he felt his pulse quicken. He swallowed empty and inadvertently licked his lips. “I’ll talk you through it”, he offered and saw Dele nod and close his eyes.

“Open your legs”, Eric breathed as he watched Dele’s face, eyes closed and mouth slightly ajar to let the increasing breathing pass his lips. Amazed, he looked on as Dele did his bidding, the dark, hard thighs spreading apart on the bed, Dele’s hands running up and down his muscular legs. Eric followed intently as Dele ran his own hands up his body, fingertips dragging up the middle of his abdomen and between his pecs before spreading his palms over his firm pecs, fingers rolling softly over the taut nipples.

“You’re so beautiful”, Eric breathed, unable to help himself and desperate to touch his own tingling body but he resisted. This was about Dele. “Can you see that?” Eric sighed but Dele’s eyes stayed firmly shut, only his hands continuing their roaming across of hard surfaces of his body.

“Go down”, Eric instructed softly and saw Dele’s hands reach lower, first to the thighs again, pressing against the firm muscles as Eric often liked to do, before brushing against his raised hard dick with one hand, with the other, before tightening the grip around his member with his right one.

“You’re so hard, Dele”, Eric sighed and saw a pink tongue emerge from Dele’s mouth, to lick the lips dried from the heavy breathing they were both guilty of.

“For you”, came a soft sound from Dele and Eric fought his impulse to throw himself on top of his lover but he wrought his hands in desperation to stop himself.

“No Del, for you, for yourself”, Eric breathed heavily, his eyes fixed in the slow movement his lover’s hand was making on his own member. Dele’s hand was slow but determined, tight but gentle.

“For you, it’s all for you”, Dele whispered again and a sound of pure want and love escaped Eric’s lips. The sound prompted Dele’s hand to move more quickly around his dick, the dark flesh flushed and heavy under his palm. Eric’s eyes were mesmerised by the movement, by the tiny rising of Dele’s hips in rhythm with his hand, the way he himself so often felt Dele underneath him, his hands on Dele, his mouth tasting him, his fingers pressing into the hips rising in that ancient rhythm.

Dele continued to build speed, his hand working around his shaft in an expert way only a person in tune with his own body could. Eric watched as Dele twirled his hand, fingers flexing and tightening around himself, his thumb coming up to the tip to swipe the moisture between his fingertips and then along the length of his member, to whet the friction between his hand and his dick. Eric felt his own tongue twitch as he wished for his own mouth on Dele, to taste the desire leaking from his body.

Dele’s breathing quickened further as his movements became more frantic, his right hand working furiously on his member, his left up his torso, twisting the nipple, his upper body now moving to the tide of his lower half. Eric’s own body was tight, the pressure surrounding his dick almost too much to bear but he resisted touching himself, his only focus the throes of his lover in front of him.

Eric could see Dele’s body tighten, the movement continuing in the lower body while the upper pressed tightly into the bed, Dele’s hand working rapidly on himself before somehow, curiously, time seemed to slow down for Eric as he watched Dele’s eyes open, pupils fully dilated from the passion and Dele stopped his hand, upper body rising slightly from the bed, his eyes now fixed on Eric’s and as Eric’s name left his lips, Dele’s body was gripped by furious release as his body pulsed on the bed, his dick emptying itself on his abdomen, Dele’s whole body shaking as his release ravaged his taut frame.

Eric could only watch in wonder, having witnessed this reaction, this release with their joined bodies many times before but now Dele’s response was that much more vivid, like a flash of light in the darkness of their lives.

When Dele calmed his body, his skin sticky from his own being, his hands reached out to Eric next to him.

“I think you will save me”, Dele said, moisture glistening in the corner of his eye.

 

_\- Fin -_

 


End file.
